


April Showers Bring May Flowers

by DeadSalAndLarry



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Smut? I think that was already implied, Stupid horny teenagers who can’t comprehend emotions, Tag as I’ll go, This whole thing is so stupid, Weed mention, first kiss ya'll, fluff angst and smut what more could you want, shower masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-23 10:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadSalAndLarry/pseuds/DeadSalAndLarry
Summary: ...and god is virginity in bloom.Sal does a dumb thing over something stupid that Larry said and hoo boy.-DLJ





	1. The beginning of something stupid

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, this is quite literally the first fic I have ever written, hell, generally the first fiction thing I’ve made considering the only things I’ve written were informative/argumentative essays for English. Never really thought I’d write one of these, but here I am. Anyways, I have somewhat of a vague idea on where this is going thanks to a few friends of mine (love u two ;*) but it’s definitely going to be at least 2 chapters. But yeah, hope y’all enjoy this fic I wrote in a day, starting at waking up at 3 a.m. to get it going.

Life was unfair. 

 

Having your face ripped apart at the age of three, losing your damn mom, and then being bullied for having to conceal your own flesh for other’s well being is pretty justifiable to make the claim that life was truly unfair to Sal Fisher.

 

But god, that isn’t what is doing it for him now.

 

You’d think all that would be the worst of it all, considering that he gets nightmares about it to this day but no, what he’s dealing with now can be considered 1,000,000 times worse in his own fucked opinion: getting hard over something your stupid best friend said while still talking to him.

 

It all started with just a quick check up on the walkies talkies. Of course, after their signature hellos, Larry went right into talking.

 

“-so yeah, I’ve got a joint lit up if you want to come down and smoke some? It’s been a little while since I’ve gotten ahold of some weed,” the talkies crackled at the last of the words.

 

It has been, huh? As far as Sal was aware, it’s been a few weeks since Larry mentioned weed, at least, offered some to him. Maybe his usual dealer was backed up.

 

“Maybe in a bit,” Sal started with his finger holding down the button,” I was just about to hop into the shower.” And release.

 

Practically a minute of silence passed, leaving Sal to assume that Larry took a drag. Right when he was gonna just call the conversation a lost cause, the talkie sputtered to life with what had left Sal in utter confusion.

 

“Aw, without me?” Larry’s voice inquired with what could be playing tricks on Sal’s hormonal mind, actual genuine disappointment.

 

He had already planned on wanking it during his shower, but now it got interesting. He had to be joking, right? This was out of left field entirely for them both, and surely his friend wasn’t  _actually_ suggesting that they’d… _shower_  together? You know, naked. In a small closed space. Together. No, certainty not but god did that peak his interest.

 

He’ll never admit it, but Sal’s been crushing on Larry for a while now, always intently listening to him, his eyes lingering on the brunet’s body for a bit too long, his teenage brain conjuring up it’s own world of fantasies, involving Larry, himself, and all the time in the world. Obviously he’s too much of a coward to actually do anything about it, let alone confess to his best friend of going on 3 years now that he’s practically head over heels for the stoner.

 

It had to be the weed talking, but Sal played along with it. “Well I mean, yeah, dude. That’s how I typically shower, but I mean, unless you want to, hah,” he half-heartedly joked.

 

Silence, and then:  “... Like, actually?”

 

Shifting on his mattress uncomfortably, Sal couldn’t think of anything to respond with. He can’t be serious, right? Does he know? This has got to be a joke, they joke all the time, Fisher, get ahold of yourself. But of course, his dick didn’t know the difference between jokes and flirting.

 

It pressed against the zipper on his skinny jeans. Dammit, Larry, why do you have to be so dumb, all he wanted was to shower and throw his towel in at the end of the night, ending the day with a few games on the gameboy.

 

“...You’re joking, right?” Sal went to get up from his bed but the movement made his aching cock throb, causing a hitched moan to escape. God does he hate how _easily_ he gets into the mood, and his brain illustrating all the different meanings behind what Larry means and all the things they’d do and- Jesus the denim is so _tight_ , he has to get to the bathroom, but he can’t just leave the talkie, he needs a damn explanation for this.

 

In the spur of the moment, Sal just went with it, grabbed the device, towel, and made way to the bathroom, practically speeding past his dad on the couch who was too preoccupied watching whatever was on TV. He quickly closed the door, locked it and plopped everything onto the bathroom counter. At rapid speed, he yanked down his own pants and boxers in one swoop and God the groan that desperately tried to escape was almost too much too swallow. He can’t go making loud noises without the sound of water running drown it out.

 

And then the talkie began to speak again. Hearing the familiar crackle, Sal dove to the bath’s knob and cranked it a hard left, resulting in a waterfall of cold water spewing into the tub.

 

“-joking.” Fuck. He didn’t hear the first few words of Larry’s response.

 

A wet hand reached for the pager and clicked the button before beginning: “Haha, yeah funny joke dude. For real, I’m gonna hop in the shower, won’t be too long but if you want to hang out I’ll be down in a few.” Nice.

 

The line stayed quiet for a bit so Sal thought it was safe to assume that Larry wasn’t going to respond. He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, and drew his attention to what was at hand.

 

After plopping down onto the closed toilet lid, Sal reached behind his head and undid the clasps to his prosthetic, gently placing one of his hands on the front to pull it off to reveal his clammy face, setting it down on top of his towel. He was blushing from ear to ear, both from his own horininess as well as embarassment. What even _was_ that conversation? How in the world did it go south so quickly? He pinched the bridge of his nose, or lack thereof, and rubbed the rims of his eyes to ease the tension from his face.

 

God everything was so unfair. Life was unfair. Larry was unfair. His dumb brain? Also unfair. Every time he’d try and divert his thoughts, it’d keep wandering back to Larry, mainly improvised with his own sick imagination. Larry’s long hair, soaked and slicked back and out of his face, falling onto his dripping wet body, panning lower down the taller boy’s chest to his stomach and then to his _oh god-_.

 

Sal’s dick was painfully hard at this point and he had to do something about it. He spread his legs out and looked over at the still running water. Dad’ll have a cow over the water bill unless he does something quick. And with a grunt, he lifted himself up and took a step into the freezing cold water. Flinching at the chill, lifted up his leg and bent over to turn the knob to the right a bit, the water gradually becoming warmer and starting to show signs of steaming.  After pulling the clasp on the spout of the bathtub, the shower head sprinkled to life and soon came to a roar of water, fogging up the room with hot steam. Boiling hot showers in times like this was heaven for a virgin teenager.

 

Typically he’d at least wash his hair before jerking it but his mind was overflowing with scenarios of him, Larry and this hot, steamy shower. Wank now, clean later. Sal took himself into hand, having his back face the onslaught of burning rain to allow the heated water to trickle down on his member as lubricant and started his typical motion; rubbing the tip with his thumb and pulling his grip back towards his stomach. Already having been borderline blue balled, his body was _so_  ready for the routined sensation. He cursed under his breath once he started the twist of his grip once more for another pump. God, he was already so close and he’s barely started. A choked pant escaped his permanently split and gashed lips as he reached down to touch his Lil’ Fishers. They needed attention too after being abused with all of this waiting.

 

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get his mind to wander anywhere else besides Larry’s possible implications. What do you even do in the shower with someone else? Do you just wash each other?  Do you just jack off in front of one another? Are you supposed to give oral? Or do you actually have to, well, have straight up sex, penetration and all? Sal had so many questions rampaging through his thoughts and absolutely nothing close to being answers. What in the world would Larry want to do? He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to just sit back and do nothing but then again, Sal never got to know Larry in that sort of way. God, what could he be into? Dirty talk? Would he fuck Sal with just his words? Maybe he’d like bondage? Or maybe something rougher and just be hard and fast, causing him to scream.

 

This had all set off a spiral of envisioned scenarios to sprint through Sal’s mind, not giving him enough time to pick and choose his material. All the while, he gripped harder and pulled on himself faster, hitching his voice into strained breathy moans and groans as his slit started to leak with precum. Oh god would he kill to be touched by someone else right now. Maybe if he’d just stick with a vision, he can convince his monkey brain that it’s not him jerking himself off. And that led to just straight thoughts of Larry with bedroom eyes and a gleam of pure eye fuckery as he’d look at Sal pathetically squirming underneath his large stature.

 

Imagining him taking the reins over Sal’s body and taking care of him and tending to his sexual needs is what put him over the edge. With a final coughed out squeak of a moan, he was gone, finally able to spill his seed onto the floor of the tub. With each buck of his hips, a spurt of the white liquid came out. After many sessions and general practice, he was able to stay on his feet, but god did his legs spazz out a bit, threatening to give out. Luckily, Sal had already quickly rooted a hand into the wall parallel to him to hold himself upright with all of his little to begin with strength he could muster after experiencing one intense orgasm.

 

“Jesus,” he whispered to no one in particular except for his creative brain for the show it had put forth. Who knew that a half baked thought of a response could cause all of, well, _this_. That’s gotta be the biggest load he’s pulled so far, and damn does that shot of dopamine feel extra good. Maybe he should talk to Larry more often before jacking it. Wait, that’s a little creepy, Fisher. Get ahold of yourself, it’s just the euphoria talking.

 

After what seemed like forever, Sal was finally able to muster up the strength to actually wash himself, being sure to be gentle with his junk since it was still so sensitive after all that. Turning off the water, he carefully grabbed his towel, sifting his mask off of it and onto the counter before drying himself off. He couldn’t help but think that that was one hell of a good bout. After wrapping the towel loosely around his waist, he grabbed his mask and walkie talkie before unlocking the door and taking a small peak outside. The TV was turned off and his dad was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and walked on through the living space, bee lining to his bedroom with all of his things tucked under one of his arms.

 

Just as he made it through the door, he dumped his belongings onto his bed and started getting dressed in his pajamas, some flannel bottoms paired with a black long sleeve. As he finished and was about to put on his old sneakers to make way to Larry’s room, he took one glance at the damn pager that starred at him from the top of his green comforter. He half-heartedly expected it to start up with the stoner’s voice again, saying something, anything, to explain what that whole mess was about, but disappointedly, it didn’t. Damn.

 

After clasping on his face, he somehow gathered up the courage to make his way out the door and into the elevator, key card in hand, practically shaking with the anxiety of what is to come. God, life is unfair.


	2. The continuation of something stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sal does a dumb thing 2.0. But the catch: Larry is there. Like, physically there. Hoo boy.
> 
> -DLJ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mother trucker took me two days to write and I didn't get anyone to beta read it so have fun reading all my stupid grammar mistakes B)

A week has passed since the original incident. Amazingly enough, it was never brought up. Both the boys somehow silently agreed on not talking about it, despite Sal not being about to stop thinking about it. After finally making his way down to the basement, things continued on as somewhat ordinary. Over time and after a few hits of the shared joint, his mind and body had settled in the beanbag chair while he watched Larry paint a sea of colors onto a canvas. He always painted with brighter hues when he was high.

 

School and whatnot went on as normal. Hell, Sal practically forgot about it all until he had stepped up to the plate for another personal session. He didn’t want to draw the attention back to the awkward episode so he would just carry on as usual. Of course Sal had thought about it whenever he saw the walkie talkie stood up on his nightstand, only occasionally considering starting a conversation with his best bud for maybe some sweet release and confirmation of where their relationship stood now, but no, because that certainly was a stupid thing to do.

 

Friday night had hit the two like a truck. Again, Sal and Larry chit chatted over the pagers, talking about what teenage boys talk about whenever they’re bored; school, friends, drama, ect. Then the topic of relationships had wedged it’s way through the discussion.

 

“Dude I don’t think I’ll ever get married, let alone date someone,” Sal quipped into the microphone. “Just never saw myself as dating material, ya know?” 

 

It wasn’t unusual for Sal to be so self deprecating about himself, he’s expressed many times to Larry how much he resents his own appearance. He never saw himself as a bad person, but sometimes those overbearing mentally ill thoughts really just get to him.

 

“Sal, I am 100% positive that there’s someone who’d like you and not care about your face but actually, like, love you for you,” Larry spoke through. The light hearted conversation took a wild turn.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. Nobody wants to kiss pastrami, let alone fuck it. I’ll probably die a virgin,” Sal laughed, he knows what he’s saying is pretty depressing but it was kind of funny in a sense, the way it rang truth with tasteful degrading words against him. “The only people who’d like my fucked face are people who want to get with Freddy Krueger.”

 

“Dude I hate it when you get like this. You’re a nice guy, anybody would be lucky to call you their boyfriend,” Larry snipped back, very much irritated. “I swear if you keep this shit up, I’m gonna come up there to hug you until you admit that you’re great just the way you are.” Wow, he sounded serious.

 

“Oh yeah?” Where did this confidence come from? Sal Fisher has never been a tease, but his mouth just kept speaking, unprompted. “Then get up here because I sure as hell fucking hate myself.” He couldn’t help but punctuate it with a smirk, but as seconds past it lowered into a frown. Did Larry just disappear from the conversation?

 

Not a minute had passed before Sal heard knocking at the front door. 

 

_ He didn’t, did he? _

 

Sal slowly crept to the door, trying his best not to make the old floors underneath him creek before getting to it. Standing on his tiptoes, he peeked into the peephole and sure enough, Larry was standing right there with his chest rising and falling quickly and a red tint splayed across his sunken face. With a smile on his face and hands shoved into his pockets, he waited for the door to open. Hot bastard.

 

At this point, Sal had to let him in. He clicked it unlocked and started to slowly open the door, agonizingly slow, before a large bony hand started to push on it as well but not before Sal wedged his foot behind it.

 

“Sal, you shithead, I know it’s you, c’mon,” Larry huffed, his voices indicating that he was smiling at the stubbornness Sal had demonstrated, but was also somewhat challenged by him. 

 

Larry reached his hand through the crack in the door, just big enough to put his twig of an arm though and blindly grabbed for Sal behind it until he got a hold of the sleeve of Sal’s shirt. Dammit. 

 

“The hug police is holding you accountable for what may come next if you don’t open up all the way, Sal!” And before Sal could even think to reply, Larry rammed his whole weight into the door, resulting in Sal’s foot push out and down went the two boys crashing to the floor with a couple of varying, muffled, surprised squeals. Unfortunately, the arm that was being held hostage took a nice jab into the ancient carpet and opened up a brand new hole into the elbow of Sal’s shirt. Nice.

 

“You’re gonna pay for that, asshole!” Sal choked out between laughs. He didn’t expect Larry to actually drop everything just to come hug him, but it was nice. Having your crush melt you in the palms of their hands was a damn good feeling.

 

“Sal Fisher, you’re sentenced to 5 whole minutes of hugging. Any last words?” The two haven’t even gotten off the floor, but thank god Sal’s dad wasn’t here to see the mess his child and his friend were, but that still doesn’t stop the annoyed glares that came from the household cat for disturbing his nap. 

 

Larry took notice of the very wide open door and reached one of his long legs to kick it close, shuffling ever so slightly away from Sal. Taking this opportunity to get up and go, Sal jumped to his feet with a “You’ll never take me alive!” and started to book it to his room. Practically sliding through his bedroom door, he took a quick glance at the living room to see Larry still dumbfounded at the smaller boy’s speed, before closing the door and locking it. And with that, he flopped onto his mattress into a fit of giggles and strained to hear what Larry’s next move will be.

 

Silence once more.

 

Sal’s eyebrows furrowed underneath the prosthetic and listened even harder. The doorknob clicked unlocked and in came the brunette, shoving a bobby pin into his back pocket. Fuck, Sal forgot about that.

 

“Well, well, well,” Larry teased as he walked on over, “Now what’s your plan of escape?” He towered over the smaller boy. Sal had admitted defeat and let this happen, but he wasn’t going to object a hug from his best bud. Locks of brown hair lowered down around Sal’s chest as Larry bent down to wrap him in a bear hug, his nose nuzzled into the crevasse of Sal’s neck and shoulder. “You are loved, dude,” Larry spoke into Sal’s shirt, “even if you feel like you aren’t, you still are.” His arms tightened around the smaller of the two. 

 

A minute had passed with them in an awkward position before Larry grunted and stood back up, legs threatening to topple over. 

 

“Sorry, my legs were about to fall asleep,” he said as he fell onto the bed next to his friend, “but a nap does sound good.”

 

“Dude it’s like, 7 p.m.” Sal’s throat was dry from all the laughing.

 

“Yeah, but has that stopped me before?” Larry propped up his head with his hand and looked over to Sal with a dumb grin.

 

Sal stifled a laugh. “You’re so stupid.” 

 

“You know what else is stupid? You hogging all the pillows. At least give me one from your nest,” Larry retorted. He reached over Sal to grab one and that was when Sal snapped back to reality and realized how touchy touchy they were. It wasn’t awkward or unwelcomed, it was fine, even despite his hardcore crush over the guy. These moments were the ones Sal cherished most, just the two of them having fun. In times like this he would become more aware of how close they’ve gotten over the years, how comfortable they were with one another. 

 

Sal flipped onto his side to see Larry better, eyes flicking up and down him. Wow. He just wanted to touch him, that shouldn’t be too weird right? And with that thought, he scooted himself on over, closer. No objections came from the taller when he did so.

 

“This is nice,” Sal murmured, not giving a single care in the world.

 

“Mhm,” Larry breathed out, droopy eyes lazily blinking slowly. “You know you could get closer, right?” He cupped Sal’s back and pulled, causing Sal’s breath to hitch as his whole body was moved. 

 

“At least let me take off my mask before we go any further, Johnson,” Sal scoffed as he reached behind his head to the clasps. Larry’s seen his real face many times before so it wasn’t uncomfortable for him to do so, but still, it was… different. He gently grabbed it by the eye holes and turned to place it on the nightstand behind him. What he didn’t expect was Larry yoinking him, his back falling right into place of the curve of the other’s body. The stoner’s chin rested on Sal’s skull. His long legs wrapped around Sal’s, intertwining with them. 

 

“You take too long,” Larry said, practically inaudible due to his face being squished. 

 

_Dude._  It took Sal a bit before his brain registered what had just happened. That’s not a “I’m your friend and this is what friends do” sort of gesture. Wow. They were close, but this was a whole other level. He couldn’t help but think back to Larry practically asking to be invited to shower with him. Does he… like Sal? He’s gotta ask him about that or else it’s gonna kill him, but this moment was too nice to be ruined with such a pressing question. Being cuddled by your crush was something Sal never expected to happen to him, but he’s not complaining. 

 

But god, this was kinda hot? Being pressed up against Larry, snoozing right behind him, having his ass on, well. Ya know. Jesus, keep it together, Fisher, don’t you fucking _dare_  get horny over this. But still, he had to admit; that’s pretty intimate for just “two friends”.

 

Sal’s legs shuffled uncomfortably. Fuck. He had to go and get an erection over practically nothing. It hasn’t even been 5 minutes since Larry did the whole spiel, and yet Sal has to leave. Again. Dammit.

 

He tried to get up, which led to a groan from Larry. “Noooooooo,” he whined pitifully, and clung to Sal even tighter. God his dick sure was something from hell, wasn’t it?

 

“Dude, I gotta go pee.”

 

“Ugh,” Larry groaned, “fine.” He released Sal from his cuddle tomb. “If I’m asleep before you get back, it’s all your fault.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t worry, this shouldn’t take too long. Sal was lucky that Larry didn’t bother looking at him because his dick was severely tenting.

 

He made his way to his safe haven, locking the door before taking off his bottoms. And with that, his wiener sprang to life. _Boing_.

 

Fucking hell, if Larry can do that just by hugging him, who knows what’ll happen if they ever got into one of _those_  situations…

 

Sal sat on the toilet seat, thighs spread out once more. He can’t do it in the shower this time or else Larry would know what’s up. He’s gotta pull a quickie. Spitting in his hand, Sal got started. 

 

“Fuck-“ Why was he so sensitive? Why is he already moaning? He’s usually not this vocal but damn, it’s already starting out pretty hard. With the slightest movements his breath would quicken. God what would Larry do to him if he was here? Well, like, actually with him in the bathroom. His brain reminded Sal that Larry was laying in his bed, waiting for _him_. A rather large whimper escaped past him, past his pursed, chapped lips. 

 

Twist, pull, pant, twist, pull, pant, twist, pull, pant. Precum dribbled onto his fingers, adding more lubricant to his member allowing for better slide.

 

He was so caught up in masturbating that he didn’t hear the footsteps stopping outside the door. A small, two-finger knock brought reality crashing down.

 

“Everything alright in there?”

 

FUCK.

 

“Yeah I’m _oh god…_  fine,” Sal whimpered, not stopping.

 

“Dude, I’m coming in because you sound like a dying animal,” Larry said as he started to turn the knob, the lock preventing from it being opened. “...oh. Oh. OH. SORRY, DUDE.”

 

This was literal hell. Why did his stupid body decide to put on a vocal show? He could have jacked off peacefully but no, it just had to feel that good, huh. 

 

Damn, who knew that disturbing your friend of 3 years was a big ole’ turn off because now Sal is not feeling too great. He just wanted this shit to be done and over with so he yanked his cock so roughly to get himself to cum already. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

 

There must be a god because he spilled himself all over his fucked up shirt in less than 5 tugs, forcing down the scream that begged to leave him. That euphoria didn’t last for very long, though when he looked down. Yeah, can’t backtrack out of this one. Sal gave his body a rest before tucking himself back into his underwear and pants and taking off the long sleeve. Getting up, he looked into the mirror and wanted to cry. He really just did that, huh? Larry probably left his disgusting ass and in all honesty, he wouldn’t blame him. That was gross and downright creepy. Probably won’t be invited over anytime soon.

 

Sal gingerly opened the door, jizzed covered shirt hanging over his shoulder and was prepared to make the walk of defeat to his bedroom, but he saw Larry sitting on the couch with his arms loosely crossed and face contorted with confusion. _What_.

 

“You’re… You’re still here?” That was a dumb question. That was a _really_  dumb question.

 

Larry looked up to Sal, a bit surprised to see the shirtless boy, but quickly mustered up a small smile. “Yeah, dude.” He exhaled out of his nose, smile turning lopsided. A long moment passed, as if years trickled by the two with their staring contest to see who’s gonna say something first. Larry cracked. “So uh,” he coughed out, “what got you so hot and bothered?” He looked like he was straining to not look below Sal’s belt. 

 

This? This was awful. Does he tell him the truth? What would happen to them? Sal mentally cursed himself out for ruining what they had going on. He couldn’t just lie to him, that’ll just make things worse.

 

“...You. You did.” Time to implode. Sal diverted his eyes to the carpet. Oh how he dreamed that he could go back in time, back to when they were still on the floor. Maybe then he could have stopped all of this from happening.

 

It took a split second for it to click in Larry’s brain, but he started laughing. Like, _hard_. Sal’s face flared up with heat from embarrassment. 

 

“What’s so funny?” His voice cracked. Didn’t he already go through puberty? Did God have a grudge with him today?

 

The air was flooded with a collection of laughs, varying from giggles to full on wheezing. Tears were streaming down Larry’s face. Okay, now Sal was pissed, but damn was that laugh contagious. He could feel his own face crack into a dumb grin, occasionally giving out a few huffs. “You dick, what in the world is so damn funny?”

 

Larry was finally able to breathe again, spending a minute composing himself again.

 

“It’s just that, I didn’t think you felt the same way, dude.” What?

 

“What?”

 

“Well I mean,” the brunet continued, “I’m just shocked that you like me in that way. Like, in the way I like you.”

 

Sal almost fell over from shock. He.. He liked him? Wait no, he said “like” so he _still_  likes him? After that shitshow? 

 

“You like me?” Sal blurted out. It was still startling to hear himself say that.

 

“Uh, yeah? Going on like, 3 years of liking you. What gave you that first clue?” Larry likes him. Larry. Likes. Him. Holy shit.

 

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” Sal asked, sheer emotion clipping throughout his voice.

 

“Because who the hell is honest with their feelings anymore? Do you know how hard it is to admit something like this? I thought I was gonna take my feelings to my grave, Sal.” Larry’s thick eyebrows cocked accusingly. 

 

Damn. Sal dropped his filthy shirt and plopped down on the couch right next to Larry, staring off into space. “Larry Johnson likes me. Holy shit.” He cranked his head to look at the boy next to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve felt like this.”

 

Larry took Sal’s face into his hand, caressing the scarred skin. “And you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said before pushing away Sal’s bangs and planting a kiss on his forehead. Sal was so star truck that he could cry, but he was frozen in place. When Larry pulled back, he gave him a cheesy grin.

 

“Do that again,” Sal commanded.

 

“Well, alright,” Larry laughed and leaned in, obeying Sal’s wishes. Right before lips were going to touch his forehead, Sal snapped his head back so his lips met Larry’s. The stars must have aligned above them because neither of them pulled away, in fact, they both melted into the kiss, adjusting to find a better position. It was bad considering that they both had chapped lips and Sal was practically drooling through the cut in his mouth, but it was nonetheless perfect for two imperfect people.


End file.
